


Cavatina

by CountingWithTurkeys



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Bubbline, F/F, Fluff, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 23:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountingWithTurkeys/pseuds/CountingWithTurkeys
Summary: Responsibility may demand sacrifice, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.





	Cavatina

There is a heart in my lap. Dark maroon, the size of my fist, and surprisingly warm, given who its original owner is. Prismatic, it could reflect hundreds of colors if held to just the right light at just the right angle; such a circumstance was rare, almost impossible to predict, but when it did occur it was breathtaking and reminded me of how fragile it could be. It looked like crystal, yet was soft like fine silk. It was a conundrum I had gradually learned to stop obsessing over.

_People get built different. We don’t need to figure it out, we just need to respect it._

Right now I can’t see the colors that the heart keeps secret because my bedroom windows are covered by dark sheets, providing just enough light to work by while failing to disturb the figure lying next to me. It was another rarity to see her so peaceful. It would be cruel to disturb her. I’m not sure if she’s aware of my task, but this seems like a healthy compromise.

The heart is broken in a hundred ways. I know, because I broke it. I did so carelessly. Out of anger. Frustration. Maybe even sadism. It was so long ago that even I cannot fathom my own motives. This has been a long time coming. Logically, this procedure is delicate and requires precision, better suited to my laboratory’s spacious desk than my less-spacious bed. Nevertheless, this seems like a more appropriate location. And it allows me to stay close to the aforementioned woman sharing my bed. It’s a big plus.

To be honest, I’m not sure how long I’ve been rooted to this spot, lounging under my blankets, monocle in my right eye, allowing me to better view the intricacies of the stunningly beautiful heart. To my right, on my nightstand, rests a literal treasure chest of hundreds of dark maroon broken pieces. It took decades of scouring the land of Ooo and lands beyond to find them all.

This is a unique kind of quest, daunting in its magnitude, but so rewarding. It isn’t always pleasant - for me or her - but it must be completed. I’ve come too far to stop now. She’d do the same for me. Maybe she has already. Slowly, I reach into the box with a pair of small, pink tweezers and gently grasp a particularly tiny piece, almost invisible if not for the monocle. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to fit anywhere yet. That happens more often than not. The heart hasn’t been rebuilt enough yet to accept that piece, and all I can do is carefully set it aside to try a new one.

This time I’m lucky and the piece finds its home with a soft _*plink*._ The heart readily accepts it, fusing it almost instantly, but the shape besides me stirs, whimpering softly. That happens sometimes as well, when the piece reflects a particularly painful memory. With a sad smile I caress the muscle as gently as I dare. Almost immediately she settles, almost purring as she wiggles to press her back against my leg. I can’t resist rolling my eyes even as I feel my smile brighten. The more I work the calmer she becomes, both when she sleeps in the day and when she plays in the moonlight.

Out of the corner of my eye I note the dimming light, reflecting that the sun will soon set. It’s my cue to break for the night. I slip from the bed, tucking her in to prevent her from immediately noticing my absence while I carefully wrap the pieces in a soft cloth before returning them to their chest. The heart I leave on my nightstand where I can admire my work. My quest has taken years, but every day it gets a little easier. The more pieces that I return home the more shapely the muscle becomes. The changing shape signals my progress, rewarding me every day. When she joins me in bed my growing success is further cemented.

I have a problem with apologizing. If I were to be honest with myself - and I’m gradually getting better in this category - I would admit it as one of my greatest weaknesses as a person. Ironically, this is one of my chief motivators because he never treats me as a role, only as a person. I never appreciated this until I almost lost her. The least I can do is be better for her, for my other half, just as she’s learning to be for me.

_I never said you had to be perfect!_

I didn’t need to, though. The message came out loud and clear on its own. I shake that thought away. We’ve moved past that. It took years, and we’re stronger for it. And you know what? I’m glad, because she’s letting me. She trusts me, and it’s my responsibility to never betray that trust again. Sometimes that means postponing a meeting with another kingdom’s envoy. Or showing up fashionably late to a party. Sometimes it’s just calling in sick (if my royal duties allow me, of course). Concessions that give me an afternoon, or an evening, or a morning, to inch a little bit closer to completing my mission.

_Responsibility demands sacrifice_.

But you know what? I’m okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so outside my comfort zone.


End file.
